


Balance

by rogueshadows



Series: An Idiot's Array [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Awkwardness, Injury Recovery, M/M, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 11:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14111727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogueshadows/pseuds/rogueshadows
Summary: Bodhi comes out of the shower, the happiness of the night fading fast when he realizes Han is gone. Bodhi had tried so hard not to set expectations, not to push Han too much, and now he just feels foolish for hoping this could work at all.





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to sassysnowperson and misskatieleigh for kicking this disaster into shape. It's entirely too long, I hope all 2 people I know will read it enjoy it XD

Bodhi comes out of the shower, the happiness of the night fading fast when he realizes Han is gone. Bodhi had tried so hard not to set expectations, not to push Han too much, and now he just feels foolish for hoping this could work at all. Cassian follows him out of the shower, rubbing a towel through his hair and sighing at the sight of the empty bed. His jaw tightens, but he says nothing, brushing a hand along Bodhi’s lower back as he passes. It’s both comforting and distant all at once. Bodhi wonders if Cassian hurts just as much, the look on his face etched in the same blank disappointment he always gets when a mission goes sideways. 

Bodhi ties his still damp hair up in a bun, edging closer to Cassian, who’s now half dressed in his loose sleep pants while Bodhi still stands exposed. Bodhi wraps his arms around Cassian, pressing his face into the space between his shoulder blades, inhaling the clean scent of his skin. He brings his chin up to rest on Cassian’s shoulder, feeling insecure and craving closeness.

“Cas,” Bodhi says, trying to find the right words for what he feels, settling on a question instead. “Do you think he’s okay?” The questions sits in the air a moment, Cassian taking a deep breath in the quiet.

“I’m sure he is,” Cassian answers sharply, unable to keep the frustration from his voice, if he’s even trying to. Bodhi sighs, pressing a kiss to the side of Cassian’s head and peeling himself away. 

Bodhi takes a deep breath, sliding on his own pajama bottoms and a loose fitting shirt to sleep in. With them on, he shuffles toward the bed, flopping down on the mattress, half on top of the covers before he thinks better of it, then shifting to climb under them. Cassian stands by the dresser, shuffling through the drawers for something, or at least pretending to.

Bodhi runs over the night in his mind, thinking how right it had felt before he'd realized Han left. He’d thought the three of them were all on the same page, at ease enough with each other that honesty was a given. If Han didn’t want to stay he just could have said so. As much as Bodhi would have been disappointed, at least he’d have a definitive answer. Now he’s only left with questions and regrets, wondering at what point Han had decided to go. He thinks back to how Han had offered to leave them to it, how hesitant his voice had seemed, how Bodhi had tried his best to convince him he was wanted there without crossing any lines.

Bodhi wonders when he started caring about Han so much in the first place, the answer playing out in his mind in a thousand moments of their friendship. Han’s easy smile across the Falcon’s cockpit, the look on his face when he won a round of sabacc, or better, the incredulous look when Bodhi beat him. The long drawn out tangent of possibility in his mind that had unraveled when they kissed the first time was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to Bodhi’s want.

Bodhi had told Cassian this much in pieces, still tangled in the silky sheets of Han’s bed that morning, asking if what happened could be more than a one-off. Cassian had looked too knowing then already, his own longing blatant as he nodded. He’d leaned in to capture Bodhi’s lips and Bodhi had naively seen a future for them all, the vision of it so bright Bodhi had barely waited to get Han alone again, to press him against the landing strut of the Falcon and kiss without care. Han had seemed just as eager at Bodhi’s fingertips, to not let whatever this was go just yet. 

_“Casual, right?”_ Han had asked, and Bodhi had agreed, not knowing how else to define what he wanted without confessing too much. Now it feels ridiculous to have promised that, to think he could keep his heart out of it at all. Cassian dims the lights and comes close to the bed, breaking Bodhi from his cyclical doubts with the easy brush of his hand against Bodhi’s cheek. Bodhi tilts his face into the touch, kissing Cassian’s fingertips, endlessly grateful for what he has despite Han’s quiet rejection. Bodhi’s eyes adjust to the near dark, tracing Cassian’s features slowly.

Cassian looks less upset now, more resigned and quiet. Bodhi envies him for how easy he can bury his emotions. Cassian watches him a moment, sucking his lower lip into his mouth before he speaks.

“Not wanting to be here with you is his loss,” Cassian says, as if this were only about Bodhi. Maybe it is, in a way, the valley of his want that had opened them both up to this. Still, Bodhi’s brow furrows at the implication.

“Missing out on you too, you know,” Bodhi says and Cassian shrugs, looking away before he finally climbs into bed. Bodhi shifts over to make room, lifting the blanket to let him in. Bodhi tugs the blanket up over them both, tucking his arm over Cassian’s side to pull him close. He feels Cassian relax into the touch and more of the pain over Han fades away, pushed aside by his requited love, warm and steady in his arms.

“Han’s just... Han,” Cassian says, not quite committing to the excuse that follows, “Not exactly the most in tune with emotions.” 

“Reminds me of someone else,” Bodhi replies affectionately. 

“You changed that though,” Cassian says quietly, “I try not to shut you out anymore... do I still?” 

“No,” Bodhi agrees, tightening his hold around Cassian slightly. He remembers a time when Cassian would run off too, just like Han, at the nearest sign of emotion. How over the years they’ve both grown together into something unbreakable and honest. “I just wonder if I fucked this up. I knew he was lonely and I don’t like this feeling... like I took advantage.”

“Bo, you know you didn’t. He’ll come around,” Cassian says, with more hope than Bodhi has to spare, tangling his fingers with Bodhi’s where they rest across his stomach. Bodhi hums in uncertainty, pressing his face into Cassian’s hair, not knowing what else to say. Cassian smooths his thumb over Bodhi’s knuckles, a soothing motion Bodhi could get lost in. He nearly does, letting his eyes slide shut, letting the touch lull him close to sleep despite the lack of resolution. 

“You really like him, don’t you?” Cassian asks in the quiet. 

“I might,” Bodhi says, wishing he could define the cusp of a feeling in his chest. Cassian could probably define it better, he’s always read Bodhi all too well.

“I understand,” Cassian says, “I don’t... I won’t ever love him as much as I love you. But, still. I might.” Cassian sighs. “I might _like_ him.” He cuts himself off like the confession burns. After so long caught up in each other Bodhi can relate to the feeling, oddly afraid of the growing pains of possibility.

“I don’t love him,” Bodhi says, relieved somehow by the truth of the words, unable to mistake the way Cassian relaxes in his arms. “Not yet and... no, not the same. But, still…I know I really _like_ him too.” 

“Good?” Cassian says, the word coming out as a question. Like if Bodhi only disagreed Cassian would just banish the feeling from Bodhi’s chest. He almost believes that Cassian could. He plays over the sight of Han again in his mind, the hazy smile in the afterglow, and dares himself to forget it.

“I hope so.” Cassian hums a soft sound, lifting Bodhi’s hand up to his lips for a gentle kiss and then keeping it held to his chest. Bodhi feels the thrum of Cassian’s heartbeat, constant and sure, and lets sleep in.

\---

The next morning Bodhi seeks out Han, only to find that the Falcon has left base. He lets out a sigh at the vacant space where the ship had been parked. Bodhi doesn’t know if he has the right to feel so surprised - so hurt - by the fact that Han hadn’t even cared enough to say goodbye. Yet there he stands, dumbly, swallowing back the ache in his chest for all the good it will do him.

When General Dodonna comes by, Bodhi asks the general if he knows anything about where Han went. It’s an official mission, at least, with an unknown duration attached to it. Bodhi nods and walks away from the hangar, trying not to let disappointment sink in all over again.

Bodhi doesn’t have the time to mope for long; far too much to be done as the base is disassembled, so much to get ready before the move to the new capital on Hosnian Prime. As Bodhi works, Cassian is in and out, still caught up in intelligence despite the war being over, monitoring threats to the new capital. He still never seems to settle, vigilant in his protection of the fragile peace they’ve won.

Bodhi tries not to dwell on Han, not to think of the words that had burned in his chest that night, to push away the things he wanted. He knows the thoughts are of no use, he shuts them away with the rest of his worry, knowing they won’t do any good. He’s willing to give Han whatever time he needs and only hopes that, when he’s done running, they can still be friends at least. 

Cassian still seems frustrated at times, often the one to intercept the infrequent mission reports Han sends over the weeks he’s gone. There’s nothing personal to them, just coordinates and the details of his dealings. Bodhi is surprised Cassian even mentions them at first, but can’t help but feel a bit relieved, that Han hasn’t run off from the Alliance entirely just yet. 

And yet, despite his commitment to not dwell on Han, when the distress signal from the Falcon comes in, Bodhi realizes that no amount of time or distance can quell how he feels.

Bodhi listens as Cassian plays the frantic message, intercepted from the comms center. It’s rough and staticky, Han describing damages to the ship, that he’s headed back and hoping the Falcon holds together. Bodhi wants to cry when the signal sputters out, even knowing it’s a recording, miserable that there’s no way to reach Han and know he’s okay. 

Cassian lays a hand on his shoulder, pulls him close, and they wait out the night in the comm center drinking shitty caf and monitoring the frequencies with more anxious hope than practicality.

Relief, or something like it, doesn’t come until morning. It’s a feeling that doesn’t last long. 

“Han’s back on the radar. Ship’s coming in too fast though, he’s going to crash,” Cassian says, already getting to his feet. Bodhi is shaken into awareness by the fear in his voice, following Cassian as he breaks into a jog towards the hangar. Bodhi’s chest feels tight, grim reality sinking in as he spots the team of medics rushing from the base.

Bodhi and Cassian watch the horizon along with others, standing and waiting for the crash. Bodhi holds his breath, sending out a silent prayer to the Force, to protect Han, to not lose another person he cares about. His heart rate upticks in a panic when they spot the Falcon on the horizon, just beyond the treeline and falling fast. He braces himself, hating the uselessness he feels. The sound when it hits the canopy is loud, jarring Bodhi from his thoughts and sending everyone into action. 

Bodhi runs ahead and, as much as Cassian tries, his old injuries stop him from quite keeping up. Bodhi even pushes past the medics on the path as they pull along their grav-stretcher, preparing for the worst. 

There are downed trees from the crash that make it hard to get close, but Bodhi makes his way through, ducking under a downed branch. The Falcon is shockingly in one piece, tilted at an odd angle and wracked with blaster damage but otherwise... _survivable_.

Bodhi’s heart beats fast in the rush of relief when he finally spots Han, sitting just at the edge of the open boarding ramp. Chewie stands close by, growling at Han in concern, seemingly unharmed by some miracle. Bodhi is at Han’s side faster than he can think, kneeling down as he’s met with wide eyes. 

“Han,” Bodhi says, reaching out carefully to brush away Han’s bangs and examine the cut over his eyebrow. The contact is a tangible sign that he’s real, helping Bodhi breathe easier, past the panic and adrenaline.

“Hello to you too,” Han says, sounding exhausted and frustrated at once.

“Are you alright? From how fast you entered atmo I thought...” Bodhi sputters, cutting himself off before he can describe the fear he’d felt, not wanting to dwell on it anymore. Han sighs, looking over Bodhi’s shoulder to nod at Cassian, coming up behind them. Chewie nudges past them both, headed down to where the medics have appeared on the edge of the clearing.

“Nothing a bit of bacta can’t fix, honest. We got out lucky. More pissed over the ship than anything,” Han says, gesturing to the scoring along the Falcon’s side, the tree branches caught up in the underside from the landing. The movement makes Han hiss, sharp. Bodhi knows he’s more hurt than he’s letting on. 

“Not the worst landing you’ve had, Solo,” Cassian tries to joke, though Bodhi can tell he’s rattled too. Han huffs a laugh anyway, looking up to squint at Cassian, like he can’t quite focus. 

“I’ll have to fix her up, can’t even get her out of here,” Han says sounding forlorn and a bit woozy. Bodhi reaches out, wrapping a hand around Han’s forearm to keep him centered, feeling a bit more panicked and trying not to show it. 

“Hey, that’s not important, just... glad you’re in one piece.”

“Me too,” Han says, gripping back at Bodhi’s sleeve. The medics rush up just after he says it, forcing Bodhi to let go and get out of the way. Chewie makes quick work of loading him onto the grav-stretcher, even as Han complains. Cassian takes the lead back towards the base and Bodhi follows, never straying too far.

Han is taken away to be examined while Bodhi and Cassian are shut out, sitting in the hallway against the wall to await any news. They’re both quiet and shaky from the come-down after so much fear. Cassian tries not to show it, but Bodhi can tell in the harsh line of his shoulders, the far away look that's settled in his eyes. Bodhi reaches out to grasp his hand, sick with his own worry, glad that they're not left alone with it too long. A medic comes and motions for them to follow her to Han.

When they walk in, Han is complaining like nothing’s happened as Chewie growls at him and pets his hair.

“I told you, I’m really fine! They gave me some great meds and this stupid sling only has to be on for a couple weeks. Will you please just go relax? Or look at my poor ship instead!” Chewie huffs out an unimpressed noise but backs off. When he passes, Bodhi reaches out and pats the wookiee’s arm companionably.

Han catches sight of them and groans, leaning back against his pillows.

“You two come to fuss over me too?”

“You did crash land, it’s a bit justified,” Cassian says, pulling a chair up to sit by the bed. Bodhi feels too tightly wound to sit, crossing his arms over his chest and standing beside the bed instead.

“I guess,” Han breathes, looking between the two of them like he’s been caught up to no good. Bodhi doesn’t know what to say, whether he wants to shake Han for being so reckless or thank the Force aloud for bringing him back. He remembers the last time he saw Han, laid out and sated in their bed, and a flare of the old hurt stirs in his chest over how Han had _left_.

“You could have told us you were going,” Bodhi says, before he can stop himself. He knows it isn’t the time but he needs to clear the air. Han bites his lip, like he’s holding back a wince, refusing to meet Bodhi’s eyes.

“You know how it is with missions...” Han starts, but he can’t quite buy his own bullshit it seems, correcting course. “I’m sorry, okay?”

He looks up like he means it, the words loosening something in Bodhi’s chest. For all his frustration, Bodhi remembers that he should be grateful now, that Han is okay. He uncurls his arms, letting a hand rest on the back of Cassian’s chair, just brushing over his shoulder.

“I was worried it was something I’d done,” Bodhi admits, trying not to sound bitter.

“That we’d…read things wrong,” Cassian adds, reaching up a hand to brush against Bodhi’s, to curl around his fingers comfortingly. “We really meant for you to stay.”

“I know,” Han says, evading again. “I had a great time but it was... a mistake. Still friends, right?” The way Han asks it is almost like he thinks Bodhi might say _no_. Even with how upset he’d been…Bodhi could never do that.

“Of course we are,” Bodhi says, reaching out instead to set a hand over Han’s on the bed. Han doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t seem to know what to make of the touch either, so Bodhi steps back, trying not to push. Cassian looks down at his hands, not saying anything for a moment.

“You’ll have to do worse than almost dying,” Cassian says softly.

Han at least laughs at that, even as he winces at the shift it causes, “I’m sure I’ll manage something.”

\---

When Han falls asleep, courtesy of some powerful pain meds, Cassian moves from his cramped chair by the bedside. Bodhi had settled close beside him since, in an uncomfortable seat of his own. Cassian brushes a hand along Bodhi’s arm, pulling him out of the sleepy haze he’d fallen into. Bodhi looks away from Han’s smoothed out features, seeming almost sheepish. 

“Come on,” Cassian says quietly, “we should let him rest.” Bodhi looks as tired as Cassian feels, coming along easily when Cassian offers his hand. They head down to their room and change into their sleep clothes without much conversation, it had been a long day. Bodhi lies in the bed first and Cassian joins him, letting Bodhi pull him close. He tucks his head under Bodhi’s chin and feels the sigh as much as he hears it, making out the soft reverent words.

“He’s okay,” Bodhi breathes. Cassian makes a noise of agreement, hating the possibilities that had spanned out before they found him. The fear that had gripped him too tight when the line crackled out into nothing. 

“He is,” Cassian assures, hating how tense Bodhi still is and wishing he could sooth it away. Something that would be a lot easier without the worry firmly lodged in his own chest.

Cassian wants to believe he’d feel this way for anyone in the Alliance in the same predicament, but after so long of losing people, mourning martyrs and innocents alike, he knows it isn’t the same. Ever since Bodhi had asked for Han again, asked to see where this might go, Cassian can’t help but feel tied to the man. All the spare thoughts of attraction Cassian had ever had for Han had finally coalesced into something else, fond and protective and entirely inconvenient. 

Han had made his point, that this had been a mistake. It would be easy to agree, to push this away and console Bodhi, if not for his own foolish want. The way he’d wanted to cradle Han’s hand in his own in the medbay and how ridiculous he had felt for it. What he and Bodhi have is enough, and yet somehow here they are, caught up in pining all over again.

It’s... frustrating, to say the least. Bodhi lies still, eyes shut, but Cassian knows he isn’t sleeping, can feel it in the too quick beat of his pulse. 

“Are _you_ okay?” Cassian asks and Bodhi huffs a soft sound of disbelief.

“I’m not the one who almost...” Bodhi pauses, swallowing hard over their worst fears. “I’m fine.”

“You should talk to him again, I think,” Cassian ventures. Bodhi laughs, pulling back so he can look at Cassian’s face in the dim light. Cassian doesn’t let his expression change, studying Bodhi right back. Bodhi blinks, brow furrowed.

“And say what?” Bodhi asks. “He doesn’t want this and I understand... he’s right.”

“Maybe,” Cassian allows, “but maybe we’re right too.”

Cassian wishes he could explain it better, the certainty he feels that what Han thinks of them isn’t so cut and dry as some failed tryst. The way he’d leaned into Bodhi’s touch at the clearing, how, even injured, Han had seemed so worried they’d push him away. He knows Bodhi sees it too in the way he hesitates to answer. Cassian doesn’t push, trying to let go of the day’s worries. He presses a kiss to Bodhi’s neck instead, feeling his own tension eke away as Bodhi relaxes in his arms.

“I’ll try.”

\--- 

The next day, Bodhi tries for normalcy and fails. Cassian is called away on a sudden mission, to add to the anxiety Bodhi feels, kissing him goodbye in the shade of his U-Wing and promising he’ll only be gone a day. Cassian doesn’t seem tense about it, at least, and Bodhi tries to take that as a good sign even if he can’t know the details.

When Cassian takes off, Bodhi wants to go to the med bay straight away, but can’t bring himself to make it there, not knowing if he’d be wanted. He’s giving Han the space he’d hinted for, not to make things weird. When he does visit, late in the day, it’s only to find out Han has been discharged. 

Half an hour later, Bodhi tracks him down. He finds Han doing exactly what he’s been ordered not to: working on the Falcon like an utter _idiot_. 

Base mechanics had gotten the ship functional enough to move it out of the treeline and into the hanger. Still, there were scores of issues in need of repair, new parts to be ordered or retrofitted. It was, as they say professionally; _a kriffing mess_. Han has a hydrospanner between his teeth, making a valiant attempt to lower himself down into one of the floor panels when Bodhi catches him. Chewbacca is nowhere to be found and it’s only dumb luck that Bodhi found Han before he could get stuck down there. 

Bodhi puts his hands on his hips and Han freezes in place, letting out a muffled sigh before he dislodges the spanner from his mouth and straightens up as best he can with one arm still in a sling.

“Can I help you?” Han tries, putting on a casual sort of voice. Bodhi glares harder.

“You can get the hell back in your bed, Han... what were you even going to do? Other than get stuck down there?” 

Han glowers.

“I’d be alright if they’d just let me use bacta,” Han grumbles, not even defending himself.

“You know the bones won’t heal right if they set too fast... you damn bantha brain.”

“Is that any way to treat a friend?”

“Absolutely, now get up or... kriff, let me help you.” Han struggles to stand without actually falling into the panel he’d opened, balancing his weight on the one arm to get up until Bodhi comes over to haul him up. The move pulls Han flush against his side and Bodhi sees him wince.

“No need to manhandle me,” Han says, letting go as quick as he can after. He sits down at the dejarik table looking miserable. Bodhi sits beside him and Han only offers a glare.

“I don’t need babysitting. Don’t you have a boyfriend to chase around?”

“He’s off base,” Bodhi says, “shipped out this morning.”

“And what? You thought you’d come shack up with me in the interim?” 

Bodhi furrows his brow, missing Cassian already if only for the fact that he wouldn’t have to deal with Han’s idiocy alone.

“You really are something. You said you didn’t want that and I understand,” Bodhi says, trying to speak gently despite how offended he feels. Bodhi has a hard time believing Han is actually so clueless, that he really thinks this is some attempt to get in his pants. In Han’s injured state, barely managing to move without complaint, Bodhi tries to come off more amused than upset, but the hurt on his face must still be obvious.

Han deflates a bit, looking chagrined. “I know that. Didn’t mean anything by it. Just frustrated about my shoulder and this kriffed to hell ship.”

“I understand that too. I figured I could help if you let me, do some of the stuff you can’t handle yet.” Bodhi says, “I might still consider it if you promise not to get yourself jammed under the electric panel while I go grab my tools and the ship specs.”

“I’ve got the specs, all up here,” Han replies, tapping the side of his head.

“Well, given that you’ve been recently concussed, excuse me for not trusting that entirely.” Han sighs, but doesn’t try to stop Bodhi from getting up, which he takes as a win. He goes down the boarding ramp and prays that Han’ll stay at least this agreeable throughout the rest of the repairs.

\---

“Hey that doesn’t need fixing! What was wrong with the old wiring?” Han squawks as Bodhi undoes the frayed blue wires sticking out of the sensor array. Han is sitting on the edge nearby with his legs hanging down into the open panel, just pushed out of Bodhi’s way. Bodhi tries not to curse at the umpteenth time Han has second guessed him, knowing it is Han’s ship after all. Bodhi has made a valiant effort to listen up till now. This instance, however, is far too stupid.

“You had the power rerouted through a secondary cell, it made no sense! Fixing the ship is gonna be a lot easier if we don’t have to run through all these lines once the new parts arrive.”

“No _sense_? That’s what made this ship-”

“ _Make the Kessel Run in 14 parsecs_ , I know! It makes no difference though, that has nothing to do with the speed! Or the efficiency whatso-”

“It was 12 parsecs!” Han bites out, “The Falcon is a very delicate lady, Rook, and we’ve been together a long while. I won’t have you tearing her apart!”

“Han,” Bodhi says, feeling a headache form, “I swear if it made _any sense-”_

Han cuts Bodhi off with a colorful Huttese curse.

“Just get out then if you’re not gonna listen, I’ll do it myself like I planned!”

Bodhi knows Han’s stubborn enough to try it and almost laughs. Bodhi rests his head against the metal panel at his side instead of answering, _Force give him strength_. Han looks serious and upset, fingers itching for the tools or possibly a blaster to shoot Bodhi for not listening to his very precise instructions. Bodhi sighs, knowing it’s a battle he won’t win, giving in because Han is hurt and he’s far too stubborn to fight with any longer.

“Can I at least replace the wires? It looks like skittermice got in and chewed them up. Honestly I don’t know how you hadn’t blown up _before_ getting shot at.” 

Han huffs at that. “They’ve been working fine,” Han starts defensively. Bodhi levels him with a tired look. “Fine, alright. More work for you but go for it.”

“Thank you,” Bodhi says, finally settling in to disconnect the rest of the wires. Half the ship looks like it’s kept together with plastoid tape and will alone. Bodhi’s real challenge is to keep it looking just rough enough for Han’s tastes while also hopefully getting it to function more safely. When he’d first looked it over, before he and Cassian had boarded for their last mission, he’d been only minorly appalled. The guts of the ship are an entirely different show. No wonder Leia always called it a piece of junk.

Bodhi doesn’t say that to Han though, going along with most of his instructions for the rest of the repairs, figuring Han will only change things back if he doesn’t. The work is tiring even without so much arguing between them, having to haul himself out for supplies and sliding down to his knees to reach certain parts that were dislodged in either the shootout or the crash. When his own old injuries start to act up, the graft of metal in his arm aching, Bodhi calls it quits.

He climbs out and lies on the Falcon’s floor beside Han. “Done making a mess down there?” Han asks, still sounding put out, but with much less ire than before.

“For now,” Bodhi says, shooting Han a smile and sitting up. He stands and gives Han a hand up, even though he looks like he hates needing the help.

“You getting out of my hair, then?” Han asks, leaning back against the wall by the dejarik table.

“Depends. Have you eaten anything?” Han makes a noncommittal noise. “Come to dinner with me, I promise I won’t criticize your engineering skills anymore.” Han raises an eyebrow in disbelief at that, which is... fair. 

“Not over dinner, at least,” Bodhi amends. “Come on, you don’t have any other plans right?”

“Way to rub it in. I’ve got plenty of rations here, maybe I’m tired in my delicate condition.”

“Your shoulder is fractured, not pregnant,” Bodhi snorts, but Han still won’t budge, averting his eyes down to his feet. He looks like he’d be crossing his arms if it weren’t for the sling in the way. 

“Then you don’t need to hover over me.”

“Don’t be stubborn because I hurt the Falcon’s feelings.” 

Han shoots Bodhi a considering look, letting out a sigh before he finally nods. “You’d better apologize to her when she’s up and running, Rook.”

“I promise,” Bodhi says, making sure Han actually follows when he leaves. They pass Chewbacca on the way out, where he’s working on some of the exterior damage. Han almost gets caught up in that too before Bodhi shuffles him away. 

Chewbacca lets out a grateful growl and Bodhi laughs as Han complains.

\---

Dinner with Bodhi is better than rations at least, Han figures, realizing how starved he actually is as he fills up his tray. Han follows Bodhi to the same corner table he usually sits at with Cassian. He’s still not so sure what Bodhi wants from him, their conversation in the medbay still making him feel awkward. Bodhi had been so much of a pain in the ass on the Falcon - not letting Han do much of _anything_ \- he had almost been able to forget the whole thing. Now, sitting together, with their feet almost brushing, he can’t help but wonder if Bodhi will bring it up again. 

Han looks down at his plate, having only one hand making it difficult to just dig in like he wants to. He tries fitfully to capture some noodles and meat at the same time, but gives up when he can’t quite twirl the fork correctly, picking at the bits of the as yet unidentified jerky at the side of his plate instead. If he were Cassian, Bodhi would have probably already offered to feed him, but he gave up the right to ask for that doting when he snuck out of their room. Han eats and looks past Bodhi to the rest of the mess, in search of a distraction, or at least something to remark on. 

He spots Wedge in line for food and wonders if adding another person into his awkward mess would be better or worse. Bodhi follows his eyes and grins, waving Wedge over to join them before Han can wonder any longer.

“Long time no see,” Bodhi says, scooting down so Wedge can fit on the bench beside him.

“Right? Since you stopped flying with us I barely see you or Andor, off on your secret romantic getaways all the time.” 

“They aren’t getaways! Just intelligence work - and you know they’re _classified,_ you mynock wing.”

Han snorts at that because, well, they hadn’t exactly kept things professional on the Falcon. Bodhi blushes fiercely.

“Didn’t seem so classified when you were making out on my couch,” Han says, wondering if it's too soon to joke and hoping to get past the hurt he caused at the same time. Bodhi’s mouth draws into a line a moment before his features settle into a glare. Wedge grins, delighted at the proof that Bodhi and Cassian aren’t so straightlaced after all.

“That was after the mission was done,” Bodhi argues, “besides...” Han nearly chokes wondering, for just a moment, what Bodhi might reveal to Wedge. Bodhi opens and shuts his mouth, seeming to remember himself as he shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Han takes a long sip of his water, hoping he’s not turning red too at the thought. The last thing he needs is half the base gossiping. Wedge looks between the two of them, but doesn’t comment on the exchange, instead angling a look Han’s way and thankfully changing the subject. 

“Haven’t seen you around base either, Han,” Wedge says. “Lovely sling you’ve got there, heard you made quite the exciting return.”

“I have a recent trip home to thank for that,” Han explains, “nearly killed me.”

“Corellia never changes,” Wedge says in a jokingly fond tone, “Who did you piss off this time, Solo?” 

“It was more of who I pissed off _last_ time,” Han says with a smirk, launching into the story of his daring escape. Wedge seems amused even as Bodhi looks more worried with each piece of information Han shares. He plays it up a bit for the story’s sake, but it’s for the most part true, the fact that he’d run into the Tetsu Clan on world,getting caught before they could make the jump to hyperspace. The bad blood between them was old, but probably fair. Han had shot one of theirs first, after all.

“So Neela’s ship appears and opens fire straight away while I was prepping the hyperdrive. The whole ship got jostled by their damn cannons, but the underside took it bad before I could even fire back. Held up the jump with all the power diverted to the shields.” 

Han thinks of how he’d had to scramble from the cockpit down to the gun well, annoyed that he hadn’t picked up a third crewmember somewhere along the way. He’d shot out Neela’s cannons, but she still had a damn harpoon aimed his way when the engine sputtered out. 

“So I yell to Chewie and he says he can’t do anything without heading back to the surface, which just won’t do with the rest of the damn Tetsus out for my head. I had to go reboot the power cell manually and the whole thing was sparking, not even humming at first. I kicked the damn thing and it started up, can you believe that?” 

“With the patch work I’ve seen? I can believe it,” Bodhi laughs.

“You promised no trash talking my ship, Rook.” Bodhi shrugs, an unapologetic smile playing at his lips. Han really wishes he didn’t think it was cute.

“Not many people can kick their way out of a high speed chase, take it as a compliment,” Wedge jokes. Han rolls his eyes.

“I better get back to my ‘patch work’.” Han says, pretending to be more annoyed than he is. His shoulder is starting to ache and all he really wants to do is rest for a few hours. Bodhi looks at him with those big worried eyes again, reaching out to stack Han’s tray with his own. Wedge takes the hint that they’re heading out, gathering up his own mostly cleared plates and bidding them both farewell.

Han stands when Wedge goes, wondering if he can escape while Bodhi takes the trays back. Bodhi reaches out, his hand easy on Han’s uninjured elbow and it freezes him in place.

“Wait for me?” Bodhi asks, and Han knows there’s probably another lecture to come, but can’t help but stick around. He’s just as whipped now as he had been pressed against the strut of his landing gear or into the mattress of Bodhi and Cassian’s bunk. Han leans back against the table to wait, pushing the thoughts away.It’s a bad idea for him to keep remembering Bodhi that way.

Bodhi comes back and they leave, heading down the long corridor away from the mess. Bodhi pauses just before the turn that would take them back to the Falcon, shooting Han a look. He opens his mouth to speak, but Han cuts him off.

”I see where this is going,” Han tries to joke, “I’m flattered, still, but not in much shape for anything.” Bodhi rolls his eyes, fixing Han with a serious expression.

“Han... I promise I have no designs on your... virtue.” Han has to tamp down a smile at how Bodhi fumbles over the words. “I’d just feel better if you stayed with me. Don’t trust you not to work on the Falcon all night.” Bodhi says it so gently Han almost forgets to put up a fight.

”Chewie will be around,” Han points out weakly.

”Yeah and he deserves some rest too.” Han takes a deep breath, knowing that Bodhi is probably right. Han feels taken aback at the soft look on Bodhi’s face, filled with entirely too much open caring. It’s not a look meant for him, he thinks, too similar to what he’s seen between Bodhi and Cassian. Han ducks his head, staring down at his useless arm and hating how limited he feels.

“I don’t mean to push,” Bodhi starts, “I never would, you know? If you really promise or really don’t want to stay with me... you should go. But, you don’t have to be alone, Han.”

Han thinks a moment, of his big bed and his cold sheets, weighing them against the warmth of Bodhi’s eyes and knowing he’s doomed. 

“Alright,” Han says, “I’ll come with you.”

\---

The room looks the same as when Han had left a month ago, the only difference being that the bed is far less disheveled and there’s no longer a trail of clothes to trip over. Bodhi enters and stands awkwardly a moment, like he hadn’t actually planned for Han to say yes.

“We’re just gonna sleep, right?” Han asks again, joking and probably pushing his luck. Bodhi huffs a laugh, his wide eyes still fixed on Han all too intensely.

“Yes, Han. I’m not some sex fiend.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Han says, lips quirking up. Bodhi does frown at that comment, looking away. It makes Han feels like more of a jerk than usual. He steps forward, wanting to reach out, but thinking better of it. “Hey, I’m sorry,” Han says, “I won’t joke around like that anymore. Smuggler’s honor.”

“It’s fine, we just…have to get past it, right?” Bodhi asks, meeting Han’s eyes again. Han nods, shuffles his feet a moment, and then definitively heads toward the bed. Han wishes he could flop down as easily as he wants to, but his shoulder twinges if he moves too fast. He lowers himself on the mattress to sit while Bodhi shuffles through the drawers, still not quite at ease after Han’s joke. Bodhi gets out two pairs of sleep clothes, setting a pair beside Han on the mattress and holding the other set in his arms. 

“I’ll go change, if you want to also,” Bodhi says ducking into the small fresher. It’s a little early, Han thinks, but Bodhi’s jumpsuit had been grease stained from the repairs. Han doesn’t blame him for switching into something more comfortable. He eyes the clothes next to him somewhat helplessly, realizing what a production it’s going to be to get himself changed with his arm tied up. He’s embarrassed to admit that Chewbacca had helped him into the outfit he has on, and really, the less thought about it the better.

Still, Han decides to make a go of it, standing and extricating himself from his pants first. It involves a fair amount of wiggling around like an idiot, but he manages. Getting the new ones on is a far easier process, stepping in and bending to pull them up over his hips. They’re loose and soft and he feels more comfortable already. He considers just leaving the shirt on but it smells like engine grease and sweat. He manages to slide the sling halfway off before a sharp shot of pain stops him and he lets out a curse under his breath just as Bodhi comes out of the fresher. The pain must show on Han’s face as his arm twinges. Bodhi shoots him a disapproving worried look.

“You could have asked for help,” Bodhi says, sounding a bit exasperated. He steps forward and Han relaxes his shoulder letting Bodhi undo the buckle at his back holding the sling in place to take it off. It’s much easier than sliding it over his head like Han had been attempting. Han reaches for the hem of his shirt with his good hand at the same time Bodhi does, pulling back his fingers in a hesitant aborted motion.

“Can you get it off without hurting yourself?” Bodhi asks. Han mulls it over and sighs.

“Probably not,” Han admits. Bodhi nods, reaching out and carefully helping Han out of his shirt. He feels exposed and wants to joke again, but he’d promised not to. Bodhi’s eyes linger on the bruise along Han’s shoulder, his mouth drawing into a thin line. Bodhi doesn’t say anything, picking up the clean shirt and holding it out so Han can slide his arms in without jostling the shoulder too much. Once it’s on, Bodhi lets a hand linger on Han’s side a moment too long before drawing away. Han eases his arm back into the sling and Bodhi redoes the buckle.

“Okay?” Bodhi asks and Han nods. Bodhi moves away again, across the room to the desk. He sits and picks up the datapad there, smiling down at it suddenly.

“Good news?”

“Cassian messaged, his mission is going well. He should be back tomorrow.”

“That’s great,” Han says. He means it, despite the awkwardness he still feels around the couple. With Bodhi alone it’s different, he can imagine being fine with just Cassian too. He wishes he could get over his stupid jealousy, that seeing them together didn’t make him want impossible things. 

\---

Han is quieter than before and Bodhi wonders if he’s pushed too hard again, if he should have just let Han go back to the Falcon like he wanted. Bodhi wishes he didn’t care so much, that he could ignore the growing and worrying ache in his chest at the thought of Han alone. It feels better to have him close, to know he’s okay. Han picks up his pants, rifling in the pocket until he fishes out a pill bottle. He swallows a couple dry before Bodhi can offer to get him water.

“I’m pretty exhausted,” Han says, “hope you don’t mind if I just turn in?” 

“Of course not, I mean, I will too. I’ll take the spot by the wall… in case you get uncomfortable.” ‘In case you want to leave again’, Bodhi doesn’t say, but the idea lingers.

“Sounds good,” Han says. Bodhi turns the lights down low before climbing in. He settles the blanket over himself and then, after a moment of hesitation, lifts it for Han to join. Han slides in and Bodhi presses himself back further against the wall, careful to give Han space.

Han lies on his back, the only way he can get comfortable. His bad shoulder is on the outer edge of the bed, so at least Bodhi doesn’t have to worry about bumping it.

“Night,” Han says, pulling the blanket up a bit further and shutting his eyes.

“Good night.”

Bodhi shifts on his side away from Han, facing the wall so he won’t stare or wind up wrapped around him in the night. He tries not to be hyper aware of Han’s warmth beside him, to just drift into sleep, but it’s hard. He thinks of all the things he’s wanted to say all day, how he still can’t get a read on Han. The looks he’s caught that might mean something more if Bodhi let them.

It’s too quiet aside from the sound of their breathing until Han shifts under the covers, his foot brushing against Bodhi’s leg and making him flinch involuntarily. Han goes still again, but lets out a sigh. 

“This isn’t working.” Han lets out a breath and then says softer, “I should go.” He doesn’t move to get up immediately, giving Bodhi the chance to turn and look at him. Han looks tense, his eyes open and staring up at the ceiling. He shifts his gaze to Bodhi almost hesitantly.

“What’s wrong?” Bodhi asks.

“Nothing, just... it’s not my place, y’know? You get used to certain things.”

“If that’s what you want,” Bodhi says, unable to articulate how much he doesn’t want that. That would be the end of it if not for the question still burning on his tongue. “Just, tell me one thing first…why did you leave that night?”

Han hesitates, giving a self-deprecating half answer. “It was really nothing, just… didn’t want to make myself too comfortable.” Bodhi twists his mouth in disapproval, hating the resigned look on Han’s face.

“Why not?” Bodhi asks, wishing he just knew how Han felt, that they could be honest about this _thing_ between them. Han scoffs out a laugh.

“Honestly? Figured you wouldn’t miss me, seeing how wrapped up in Cassian you were. I could hear you laugh from the shower. I took the hint.”

“We didn’t…that wasn’t to make you feel left out,” Bodhi says, feeling suddenly guilty. “I’m sorry if…if it seemed that way.”

“Nothing to be sorry over,” Han insists, like he hasn’t even heard the words. He pushes down the covers and sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Bodhi sits up too in reaction, too tired to fight the urge to reach out, settling a hand on the small of Han’s back to make him stay. Without Han facing him it’s somehow easier to let the words tumble out, to explain himself plainly the way Han deserves.

“I was just trying to keep things…I don’t know, _casual_ like we said. I fucked up though, I... I started thinking of it as more.” Bodhi hates the messy way the words come out but knows there’s no taking them back. 

_“What?”_ Han chokes out, turning back towards Bodhi to face him.

“I know,” Bodhi laughs roughly.“You’re still… caught up on whatever with Leia and it isn’t fair of me to expect-” Bodhi starts and Han cuts him off.

“It’s not… Leia and I talked,” Han says with his brow furrowed. “When I was away, made a damn fool of myself and commed her drunk. She hung up and called back in the morning and we’re… okay now.” Bodhi nods at the sudden clarity of it all, how… completely absurd he must seem. If Han was back with Leia this whole time then Han was completely right to rebuff him. This _was_ all a mistake.

“So,” Bodhi starts, trying not to seem too pathetic and suddenly wishing Han _would_ just leave him to his embarrassment. “You fixed things… that’s… Kriff. You should have said… I mean, does she even know about the crash?”

“Not like that, no, damn it Bodhi, just listen,” Han cuts off Bodhi’s rambling, “She does know about the crash, of course. Made her promise not to rush here to check in. We’re… trying to be friends.”

“Friends,” Bodhi says, the word not doing anything to fix the feeling in his chest. “Like us?” Bodhi asks, considering where he and Han’s ‘friendship’ has landed them and hoping Han knows what he means. 

“Not like us,” Han says, “she’s over me.”

“I’m sorry,” Bodhi says again and Han shrugs.

“It is what it is,” Han says, sounding a bit more vulnerable. He looks Bodhi in the eyes then, something more intense in his gaze. “Now… what did you mean something more?” Bodhi ducks his head, wondering if he could backtrack now and let this all go. He wishes Cassian were there, can imagine his warm eyes urging Bodhi to just be honest with what he wants, what _they_ want. Everything they feel for each other and how, ridiculously, they can’t help feeling drawn to _Han_. To his suave personality and the gentle, entirely too endearing, _idiot_ beneath the facade. 

“You deserve more than some friends with benefits thing,” Bodhi says, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to be honest, to let the chips fall where they may. “With… with me if you want, and, well, I’ve talked to Cassian and he’s… he thinks so too.”

“Are you _leaving_ him?” Han asks, looking a bit horrified.

“No! Of course not, kriff, I meant. We _both_ want to try with you. If you wanted that.”

“Oh,” Han says, eyebrows arching in surprise. “Why… me, really? I mean, you guys are so…” Han gestures vaguely, looking suddenly overwhelmed. Bodhi doesn’t know what to say, whether the lack of outright rejection ought to give him hope or not. He reaches out to cover Han’s hand with his own, all the same, needing Han to understand.

“Is it that hard to believe I like you?”

Han lets out an uncertain laugh, but Bodhi doesn’t miss the way his eyes flit to Bodhi’s lips when they’re so close. The attention makes Bodhi’s heart rate uptick with hope. Bodhi edges closer before he can second guess this time, reaching out to cup Han’s face between his hands. 

Bodhi leans in, giving Han enough time to pull away if he’s misread things, and is met with the slide of warm lips against his own. It’s chaste and a little bit tense, but honest, giving way to something tender before they part. Han’s eyes scan Bodhi’s face in blatant relief, something so beautiful that Bodhi presses in again, recapturing Han’s lips with a needy sigh. Han tilts his head into it, bringing up his hand to splay along Bodhi’s side. When they pull apart again Han looks dazed, wanting.

“Is that a yes?” Bodhi asks, knowing he must sound desperate. Han’s expression flickers with uncertainty still, pulse beating hard beneath Bodhi’s fingertips as they slide down his neck. 

“I liked how it felt to be with you more than I should have, but… I can’t make you any promises that I won’t fuck this up,” Han says, “Not exactly the best track record with relationships, y’know?”

“Han,” Bodhi says, somewhere between pleading and reprimanding, “It’s okay. You don’t have to try so hard.” Han’s shoulders lose some of their tension, but his features still look fraught. 

“I don’t know what else to say,” Han admits.

“Say…say you’ll stay,” Bodhi offers, because, if Han doesn’t run then maybe, just maybe, they could have a real chance at this. Han looks at him and then reaches up his hand to cover Bodhi’s own along his neck, and Bodhi can feel him swallow hard.

“Okay,” Han breathes, like he’s trying to convince himself, “I’ll stay.”

Bodhi can’t stop the grin that breaks out on his face, tipping close and pressing a kiss to Han’s temple. He pictures Cassian here too, how he’ll look in the morning when he gets back, when they can all be together.

“Good.”

\---

When Cassian arrives home, the quarters he shares with Bodhi are quiet save for the soft sound of breathing. Cassian leaves the lights low, sneaking in as best he can not to wake him. It’s the snuffle of a familiar snore that lets Cassian know Bodhi isn’t alone. He walks over to the bunk and takes in the sight, Bodhi delicately tangled around Han as they both sleep. Cassian marvels a moment at the fact that Han is resting so easily, that he’s there at all. It’s not surprise he feels, more like a quiet relief, hope that perhaps Bodhi has clarified things between them. What they could become, at least. Cassian feels a bit of pride at that, that Bodhi had at least tried for this, so deserving of everything he wants. 

Cassian strips off his gear, changing quickly in the fresher into something more casual than his fatigues, and when he comes out Bodhi is awake. Cassian lingers in the fresher doorway, watching as Bodhi’s eyes trace Han’s features, feeling a bright thrum of happiness at the small smile stretched on Bodhi’s lips. Cassian shifts, stepping forward, and Bodhi’s eyes dart over to him, that same small smile stretching wider just for him. Cassian’s heart beats fast like it’s the first time, shooting a warm look back in response.

Bodhi looks like he wants to speak, but bites his lip, eyes flitting back to Han, conscious not to wake him. Cassian takes the hint, walking over to the bed where he can hear Bodhi whisper, “Morning.”

Cassian dips down, leaning over Han to press a familiar kiss to Bodhi’s lips, the worries of his mission sliding away in the press. It had been straightforward enough, but still, the distance was never easy. When he pulls back he’s careful not to jostle the mattress, not to bump Han’s immobilized shoulder. Cassian glances down at Han with a surge of affection in his chest. He hadn’t thought it possible, but he might have missed Han just as much, even with the awkwardness between them. The weight of the feeling is less overbearing, softened by the kindling of joy in Bodhi’s eyes.

Bodhi shifts away from Han a bit, gentle and slow, to sit up. Cassian sits at the foot of the bed, just on the edge of the mattress. Han doesn’t wake, only snoring softly in his sleep. Bodhi looks down at Han again affectionately and then back to Cassian. Cassian raises his eyebrows in teasing question and Bodhi shrugs, blush playing out across his features.

“I told him,” Bodhi confesses.

“I kind of figured,” Cassian says, smiling at his flustered boyfriend.

“He... likes us. If you hadn’t guessed that too.” Bodhi says. Cassian lets his eyes drift back to Han’s face, building up the idea in his mind that he could get used to having him here. Bodhi speaks softly, telling Cassian how Han had come around. When Bodhi says Han felt left out Cassian feels like a fool for not seeing it, making a quiet promise to make sure Han doesn’t feel that way again. 

“The way he talked Cas, he acted like... like he didn’t _deserve_ us.” Bodhi sounds incredulous at the thought, a soft protective tone to the words.

“Well, he was half right there,” Cassian says. “Neither of us deserve you.”

“Shut up,” Bodhi says, wrinkling his nose in a soft laugh he can’t hold back. Cassian grins back, savoring the sound. Han stirs as Bodhi stifles his laughter poorly, shooting a reprimanding look Cassian’s way that’s much less effective with the goofy smile still on his lips. Han wakes slow, shifting and snuffling, opening his eyes to peer blearily between Bodhi and himself. Cassian can tell the moment consciousness catches up, hating the way Han’s shoulders go tense when he looks at Cassian. 

“Morning,” Cassian says softly, wishing he had been there the night before, so that Han could understand that whatever Bodhi said really was true for them both. Bodhi wraps around Han again and he startles, but doesn’t pull away, gaze still nervous even as he musters his trademark smirk.

“Hey Cassian,” Han says, “glad you made it back.”

“Glad to find you here,” Cassian replies gently, hoping Han will trust his meaning. “A nice surprise to come home to.” 

Han bites his lip, nodding, like he’s still just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Bodhi holds him close and presses a soft kiss to Han’s neck in a smooth move and Cassian can see Han shiver. “Really glad you stayed,” Bodhi murmurs.

“You’re welcome,” Han jokes at first, but it gives way to something quieter, “It’s been real nice.” Bodhi nuzzles into Han’s neck at the words, a smile on his lips. The sight of the soft gesture makes Cassian ache with how much he wants this to work, to be wrapped up around them both. 

Han lets out a soft laugh at the move, catching the look in Cassian’s eyes and pausing. “Ought to give Cassian some attention,” Han deflects, clearing his throat. “Wouldn’t want to make him jealous.”

Bodhi looks over, raising his eyebrows at Cassian, silently beckoning Cassian up the bed. Cassian settles, sitting close to Han’s side so he can reach Bodhi easily. Bodhi leans in, with a gentle hand braced on Han’s stomach, to press a quick kiss to Cassian’s lips.

Han goes still, and Cassian wonders if he’d been hoping to extract himself before this. If this is too much like teasing. Bodhi pulls away with a shy grin and Cassian smiles back before he fixes his eyes on Han, at the still unsure look in his eyes that Cassian can’t let stand.

Cassian tips carefully into Han’s space, bracing himself on the bed so he doesn’t accidentally press against Han’s wounded shoulder. He stops short enough that he can still read Han’s expression, taking in the eager look of his eyes with a coil of want in his stomach. 

“Can I?” Cassian asks, needing to know Han is alright with this - with him - before he goes further. Han nods and Cassian still takes his time, bringing up a hand to cup Han’s jaw. 

“What you waiting for, Andor?” Han breathes in frustration and it’s only another heartbeat before Cassian is kissing him. It’s not like their kisses before. Without the rush of harried lust, Cassian lets himself be thorough, teasing his tongue along the seam of Han’s lips. Han tilts his head, gives easy access, like a confession of all he’s been holding back. 

They part for air and out of Cassian’s periphery he sees Bodhi biting his own lip, pressed up against Han’s side and watching them. Han follows Cassian’s gaze and looks caught, flushing as Bodhi breathes out sharply. Cassian eases back further, giving them both more space to breathe.

“You weren’t kidding,” Han says, gaze following Cassian before he turns to Bodhi again, “about both of you... really?” It’s rhetorical this time, Han looking too pleased with himself, like the obvious hints have _finally_ sunk in. Bodhi rolls his eyes, Han continuing before he can interject. “It must be my roguish good looks, right? Suppose I shouldn’t feel so surprised.” 

Bodhi snorts and Cassian stifles his own laughter. Han is who they’ve chosen after all, and for some unfathomable reason, his ridiculousness only makes Cassian more sure.

“It must be,” Bodhi says, “because most of the time you’re a pain in the ass.” Han lets a mock insulted look flit across his features before grinning again.

“A fair trade, right?” Han asks, and Bodhi smothers the smug look on his face with another kiss. Cassian takes in the sight of them, reaching out a hand to cover Bodhi’s on Han’s stomach, letting the sudden calm he feels take hold. 

It’s so far from what Cassian could have ever hoped to want, and yet, it feels right. Cassian settles in the scant space at the edge of the mattress, gently pressed against Han’s side, watching a coy smile bloom on Bodhi’s lips when they break for air. 

The thrum in Cassian’s heart is as familiar as the bright happiness in Bodhi’s eyes, the same feeling that blooms in his own chest. Cassian thinks, as he snuggles closer to Han, that between Bodhi and himself, they just might make Han happy too. 


End file.
